


Four's the merrier

by MarieAulnoy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexual Character, Demisexual Character, Established Relationship, Foursome, Foursome - M/F/M/Nb, Grayromantic Character, Happy Sex, Healthy Relationships, I just wanted to write happy poly smut with emotion magic, Love, Magic, Magic-Users, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Sex Is Fun, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAulnoy/pseuds/MarieAulnoy
Summary: “It…” Bry gasps in a short breath and Rory chuckles, either at him, or Raph, or both. “It’s nearly like you’re touching me,” he muses. “But…not really? More like I’m touching myself?”He has no desire to do that though, not while these feelings are wrapping around him closer and closer. It feels…it feels like being kissed by Raphael and touched by Rory at the same time. Or maybe…maybe not quite… It’s hard to tell what is what with his skin is starting to tingle like this. But Raphael is in all of it. And so is the want for Rory.Something warm and non-magical ripples through his body and Bry opens his eyes just in time to see Finn hide their face against his shoulder. Their hair has curled all the way up, moving like the wind is in it, and it’s flickering darker and lighter with every shudder of feelings that Bry feels in his own body. He smiles, exhaling noisily. Yeah, same.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Four's the merrier

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rather elaborate piece about an established poly relationship. Pure magic smut, with lots of emotion magic. No idea if this works without a more thorough introduction of the characters but all I think you need to know is that Rory and Raphael were essentially best friends with benefits who then started officially dating Bry and Finn respectively. Eventually the four of them ended up in a sort of square, where everybody is fond of everybody but just in different ways.
> 
> For further context: Raphael is allosexual and has emotion sharing magic, Rory is grayromantic and has a talent for mind- and feeling reading, Bry is demisexual and has no specific magic beyond a high sensitivity for sensing it in others, Finn is asexual and can create visual illusions.

Usually, when they’re all in bed together, Rory has Bry in her arms on one side, while Raphael lies on the other with Finn. Tonight she has ended up in the middle of the bed with Bry on her right, however, and she can’t really hold him very well on account of Finn, who has fallen asleep with their head tucked against his chest. Rory spent an amusing few minutes listening to the rustling of Bry and Finn doing what she is pretty sure counts as nesting, with Finn uttering some muttered remarks about there being more softness but  _ less _ general surface area to cuddle against. Clearly they couldn’t lie on Bry in the same way they do with Raph.

They seem to have figured it out though, because the two of them have been sound asleep for a good while now. Rather annoyingly so, because Rory can’t sleep. She’s awake and dissatisfied with the quiet dark around her, that is usually so filled with calm and comfort when all four of them are together. Especially with Raphael sleeping beside her.

Rory opens her eyes in the grey dark. Raphael is right next to her, but she cannot feel his sleep. No calming echo of his dozing is drifting outward to slowly fill the room. That’s not how it’s supposed to be when Raph is asleep.

Come to think of it, he has been rather quiet this evening. Raphael is often quiet, but usually he is still very present. That wasn’t the case tonight. That probably means he’s been too busy thinking again. Overthinking, as far as Rory is concerned. Certainly if he hasn’t fallen asleep yet during all the time that she has been musing about the tangle of braids, curls, and silky pyjamas that is Bry and Finn.

Rory shifts her weight, rolling closer to Raphael. He doesn’t move, but when Rory touches him she is certain he is awake. He feels awake. Rory lets her hand slip under Raphael’s covers, finding his left hip and silently running her hand up his side.

Raphael barely reacts, but he doesn’t protest. Doesn’t shake her off like he definitely would if he wanted to be left alone.

Rory goes to lie on her side as well, just so she can curl against Raphael’s back, one arm wrapping around his waist. She hides her face against the back of Raphael’s neck, breathing in his scent. As she does so she can feel the distant hum of the surface of Raphael’s feelings. Too vague to be distinguishable, but enough to feel Raphael beyond just the touch of his skin. If they had been alone, she would have pulled closer, touched her teeth to Raphael’s neck, whined something at him to demand a response. Patience is a slippery virtue. It always seems to slip away from her.

As it is Rory just lies there for a while, her chest pressed to Raphael’s back, trying to reach out with her magic in the softest, least intrusive way she knows. Her hand doesn’t move, but it’s like brushing fingertips over Raphael’s mind. She’s searching for the shape of Raphael’s mood. What he keeps carefully locked away underneath his self-control until he sees fit to actively use his magic. By now she knows Raph can feel her doing this. He always feels when she’s reading him and he’s  _ very _ quick to tell her off when he’s not pleased with it. So Rory digs her fingers in just a little, presses just a little closer, and parts her lips.

“I can’t sleep…”

It’s barely a whisper, but she knows Raphael heard her, right down to the suggestive tone. Wherever his skin is pressed against hers, Rory can feel just a flicker of excitement. She grins and spreads her left hand across Raphael’s stomach. The sound of his exhaling breath is just a fraction louder than before. Rory lets her lips press against the back of Raphael’s neck and drinks in the shiver she gets in response.

She relaxes her hand again, beginning to trace lazy, stroking circles over Raphael’s skin. There’s enough distant glow from the streetlights coming in through Bry’s thin curtains to be able to see a little whenever she opens her eyes, but Rory keeps them closed for now. Her face is still tucked against Raphael’s neck and her hand moving under his covers. Working blind is half the fun. She knows her way around anyway. The tips of her fingers brush past Raphael’s ribs and down past his side to his left hipbone. She can feel Raphael’s responses from three directions. Via the way his muscles move under her hand, through the slight changes in how his body presses back against hers where their hips meet, and in the interwoven echoes of their so deeply complementary magic. Raph’s feelings drift out of him in little gusts, and Rory tries to gently coax towards her whatever isn’t given freely just yet.

As she begins to let her hand trail up and down Raphael’s thigh, she no longer has to try too hard. His breathing is becoming deeper, more rhythmic, and Rory can sense his feelings pulsing in the same rhythm. The sensation makes her grin against the back of Raph’s shoulder. It’s like being told “yes” over and over again. Raphael never begs, but his spilling feelings do it for him.

With unhurried indulgence Rory runs her hand over Raphael’s thighs, hips and stomach, slowly filling her mind with second-hand pleasure and basking in what she can clearly feel is pure appreciation of and attraction to herself. It's a heady, indulgent sensation, and it can make her  _ very _ generous.

Raphael tenses against her when Rory touches him through his boxers. He doesn’t make a sound, but his legs tense in exact harmony with the hot spike of feelings that Rory rewards with a silent kiss to the base of his neck. Raph doesn’t easily allow situations in which he has so little opportunity for initiative, it’s kind of a rare treat. Rory makes a mental note to do it more often and gets just a little rougher with her touches.

By now Raph is flatteringly hard under her hand, but he’s also clearly fighting to regain his composure. His breathing no longer hitches as easily and his feelings, although Rory can now steadily feel them flowing into her, are a gratified smoulder rather than spikes of heat. Well, that’s easily fixed.

Rory drags teasing nails across Raphael’s stomach for just a moment and then slyly dips her fingers under the waistband of his underwear.

Raphael swallows a gasp and Rory presses more closely against his back in an attempt to chase the spike of lust she just felt. A beat later one of Raphael’s hands has her gripped around her wrist, however, sternly immobilising her teasing fingers.

Rory lets out a muffled huff of disagreement, but doesn’t struggle when Raphael pulls her hand back to its former position. Instead she makes a soft, coaxing noise, and presses a nearly open-mouthed kiss to Raphael’s neck.

Raph doesn’t let go of her wrist. “Not here—” he breathes.

His voice is too low for Rory to read anything in its tone, but she can  _ feel _ Raphael’s wants don’t match his words. Too much self-denial has always been her oldest friend’s worst trait. But in this case – Rory pricks up her ears to listen to the deep, peaceful breathing of Bry and Finn – it’s probably about misplaced delicacy.

She cranes her neck to bring her lips as close to Raphael’s ear as possible. “They’re both sound asleep.” She flexes her hand against Raphael’s grip, softly trailing her fingertips over the first bit of warm skin she can reach. “They won’t even know…”

Raphael is silent, but his grip is relaxing. Still, even while he lets go of her hand, Rory can feel him give just the slightest shake of the head on the pillow.

Rory longs for the freedom to sigh out loud. She rests her head against Raphael’s shoulder again. “Fine…” She lets her hand slip out of Raphael’s loosened grasp and slowly picks up where she was before going too far. “I’ll behave.”

She was speaking low enough that she’s not sure if Raphael even heard her, but it doesn’t matter. Rory can feel him relaxing against her again and he soon moves his hand out of the way, giving her free rein again. She makes a silent show of sliding her hand past Raphael’s waistband again, but not slipping under the fabric this time, touching him just lightly enough to probably be a tad frustrating. Raphael’s hips twitch against hers just a fraction and Rory grins. She strokes him teasingly up and down a couple times, before suddenly pressing down harder with the flat of her palm.

Raph locks his breath in his lungs for a moment.

When he does exhale, Rory leans into him again and whispers:

“You know they won’t mind. We talked about this…”

She squeezes him lightly and gets a shudder in response. She can just hear the tail end of a sentence in Raphael’s faltering breathing. “—difference.”

Well, yes,  _ technically _ knowing people are having sex or not being bothered by accidentally walking in on them is not the same as giving them permission to start getting busy right next to you. But Finn, who has most cause to be uncomfortable around this,  _ specifically _ said they didn’t mind her and Bry’s increasing PDA, so why would this be any different?

She grabs down a little lower, touching and squeezing until she can tell the warm tug in the bottom of her stomach is no longer just her own.

“We don’t have to wake them up…”

Raphael cannot answer her without speaking up too much, but he doesn’t try. He’s clearly too focussed on keeping his breathing steady and his feelings have gotten a greedy edge that Rory desperately wants to encourage. She has never been able to explain to anyone what it feels like to have a desire to be touched by her, a want for her fingers, her skin, her attention, coursing through her own veins. It’s  _ intoxicating _ . She needs more of it. She is  _ dying _ for Raph to let her.

She presses her hips against his, feeling him instinctually mirror the movement, and presses a silent kiss just below his ear.

“Remember that time in the summoning temple? No one heard us then…”

She feels Raphael twitch under her hand and squeezes in return. Raphael nearly groans. She can hear him swallow it down.

“…if you’re afraid they’ll hear  _ me _ —” Her mouth is nearly pressed to the shell of Raphael’s ear and her hand is gripping him through the fabric of his boxers as much as she can. “—you know how to keep me quiet…”

Rory wasn’t expecting Raph to suddenly roll over, but she gladly allows herself to be dragged on top of him. She has half a second to wish she had also been sleeping in just her underwear, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the extra layer of her pyjamas as their hips move against each other. But then the fingers of both Raphael’s hands are digging into the back of her neck and her eyes roll upwards as a wave of hot want seems to shoot straight down her spine. She can just see Raphael’s lips part in the dusk and it seems like she has to wait for actual minutes while Raph drags her face towards his with an infuriating degree of careful control.

The kiss is oddly quiet and slow for the amount of tension coursing through them both. Rory doesn’t fight Raphael’s grip, but rolls her hips against his while she tastes him, determined to have more. When the pressure on his fingers finally lifts, Rory puts her head down to breath against his neck, hot and wet. Her mind is still swimming with Raphael’s feelings, but her hands are already travelling down to his hips. Words have abandoned her temporarily, but she manages to breathe silently enough to create a moment of genuine quiet, in which they can both hear Finn and Bry still sleeping soundly half a mattress away from them.

She makes a single soft, asking noise.

It only takes the slightest touch of Raphael fingers to the top of her head to make Rory grin wide enough for it to be audible and to nimbly crawl down under the covers.

\---

Bry never sleeps as deeply as when his bed is filled with the comforting glow of crowded affection. He’s so used to sleeping lightly though, that it doesn’t truly disturb him when he drifts up to the edges of sleep for a while. It’s just enough to be aware of how snug and warm he is, to feel Finn’s weight against him in that pleasant, almost-heavy way that warns you your arm is going to be a little worse for wear when you wake up but that it will have been worth it. Their curls are tickling against his face a little, almost as if they’re moving on their own accord. Which, considering it’s Finn, is a real possibility. It’s not an unpleasant feeling however, and paired with their soft breathing brushing past the hollow of his throat it’s making a pleasant sort of warmth drag its way slowly down his body.

Wait…

His eyes don’t quite open just yet, but Bry manages to swim up through the drowsiness enough to realise that whatever he’s feeling right now, it’s not…his. It’s nice. It’s tickling softly down his back and pressing warmly on his chest, but it’s not—

He reaches out, with his right hand, and fails to find the familiar shape of Rory beside him. At the same moment he reaches out however, he feels a slow sort of tingle run up his arm. His sleep-addled mind conjures up an image of someone kissing his fingers and tickling his palm, which he knows isn’t real, but it  _ feels _ real.

Bry blinks, just as a soft note of laboured breathing spills out into the air, paired with a sudden flutter in his stomach that is by now familiar enough to recognise. Raphael’s magic.

Now his ears are awake to it, the muffled sounds in the room suddenly seem to grow louder. The rustle of cotton, the slow, shaking breaths, the subdued sounds of careful movement. A drowsy smile jumps to Bry’s lips, followed by a rushing heat flushing his cheeks as he feels his body respond to what must be happening unseen in the dark. His partners are being  _ incredibly _ quiet.

For a moment he considers just lying still and keeping quiet, he certainly doesn’t want to disturb them. But…he does kind of want to see. Another foreign shiver runs down his body and he turns his head to the side. He can just make out Raphael, lying on his back with his eyes closed, but Rory is nowhere to be seen. What he  _ can _ see is movement under Raphael’s covers. The thrill twisting in his stomach in response to  _ that _ , is all his own.

Without meaning to, without even realising it, Bry moves. Just a little. Just the slightest involuntary arching of his back. But it gets an unexpected response. Finn clings to him, slender fingers suddenly fastening into his nightshirt, and when Bry looks down, he sees their eyes are wide open. Even in the dark Bry can see the blush that has crept all the way down Finn’s neck. They don’t look unhappy, or even uncomfortable - not at all, as far as Bry can tell - but the look in their ever-changing eyes is just a bit too confused.

“Guys?”

Gentle as his voice was, the reaction is immediate. The pleasant feelings jolt with something like fright and Finn makes a soft noise of discontent. There’s a muffled protest that sounds like Rory, followed by the rustling of bedding and the unmistakable sound of Raph letting out an almost angry groan. Bry grimaces in the dark. That’s not the reaction he was going for at all.

“Seems like we weren’t meant to wake up, Finn,” he murmurs, with as lightly teasing a tone he can command while his voice is still rough with sleep. “Now I’ve spoiled their fun.”

A shadow moves as Rory emerges, still leaning over Raphael, who makes a sudden warning sound at the back of his throat.

“I’m quitting, I’m quitting, calm down-” Rory hums, settling down until she’s almost lying on top of Raph, but no longer actively touching him, and Bry can hear amusement as well as regret in her voice.

The amusement takes the upper hand as she continues: “Just for the record, did you wake up because you heard me? Or because you  _ felt _ him?”

“Oh you fucking—” Raphael breathes in a hiss and Bry lets out a cautious laugh.

“It’s alright, Raph,” he smiles. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Mmm,” Finn hums, sounding at least vaguely in agreement.

Raphael and Rory seem to be having a wordless, motionless conflict of some kind that ends with a sudden sort of coldness as all of Raphael’s magic abruptly drains from the room. Bry shivers with the discomfort of it and he feels Finn pull up their shoulders with a flinch.

“Sorry we woke you both,” Rory says, the slight purr of her voice a rather stark contrast to Raphael’s stubborn silence. She’s still lying on top of him, her chin barely propped up on her hand as she looks in their direction. “I take  _ full _ responsibility.”

Bry feels the corners of his mouth quirk up, he can’t help it. Rory has had that effect on him ever since they met. “We can give you guys some privacy if you want,” he says, trying to go for a lighthearted tone.

Raphael makes a sharp noise of denial and Rory responds with a sigh.

“There’s always the guest room,” he suggests, not knowing if he’s allowed to laugh.

Rory seems to be having the same struggle, but Bry can just see Raphael’s expression and it’s such a strong mix of frustration and embarrassment that he tries to reach out and touch his shoulder.

“Or, you could…continue.”

Bry stops mid-reach and looks back to where Finn has pushed themselves slightly up off the mattress. He is certain, judging from the shocked silence, that the other two are doing exactly the same.

Finn is still lying against him, but has raised themself up high enough to look over at Raphael and Rory. Their hair is a messy tangle of tight, short curls and their face is still flushed.

“I mean…if you want,” they mumble. 

“It did feel pretty amazing,” Bry speaks up, mostly in an attempt to break the sudden silence.

Raphael props himself up on his elbows a little, Rory instinctually moving with him. “Wait, are you serious?”

Finn makes an odd sound at the back of their throat.

“You’re really okay with this?” Raph sounds far more urgent, nearly anxious, than he usually does. He only ever gets like this when it concerns Finn.

“Y- I think so?” Finn’s voice wobbles a little. “I just want to feel you again—”

Rory makes a sound that is downright gleeful and Bry is about to lend his general support to that wish, but Raphael exhales in a decidedly wary fashion.

“Finn, that’s not—”

“I mean it,” they urge. “I liked… It wasn’t too much like some other stuff is, I just…”

They fall silent and Bry can literally feel the heat of their blush through the fabric of their pyjamas.

“I, um—”

“I can go slow,” Rory interjects, managing to at least divert Raphael’s attention from being fully and anxiously fixed on Finn. She sits up fully now, straddling Raphael’s legs with her own and despite everything Bry can tell Raphael reacts with reluctance to the sudden cold and distance. Rory looks at him, her eyes making an effort to find his in the dark, and then at Finn, a slow smile starting on her face.

“I can go real slow if you like…” She looks back at Raphael. “And I’ll stop immediately.”

Bry can feel the vague touch of Rory’s magic as she feels around in an attempt to gauge all their reactions. He can feel her gently peeking at the echoes of their thoughts.

“We don’t have to,” Finn says, colouring even more deeply. “Raph, if you don’t want to—”

“Oh he wants me to,” Rory growls and despite the hotness twists into Bry’s stomach he speaks up:

“Rory.”

He feels her magic back down as she does too, tilting her head with a hint of apology.

Bry’s skin is still tingling with a mixture of magic and borrowed arousal, but he makes an effort to get Raphael’s attention without having to push away from Finn. They have lowered themself back down again, nearly hiding against him, and Bry shifts so he can actually hold them properly.

“Raph?” he asks. “Would you be okay with this if we all were?”

There’s a short silence. “I don’t know.” He sounds tense. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” Bry turns their head, peeking down into Finn’s face, not able to focus properly because of the proximity. “Finn? You didn’t seem to mind just now, but you did look a bit…startled.”

“Yeah…” Their voice is very little more than a whisper and their eyes have paled to the lightest blue. “It felt good though. Raph…feels good.”

“He does, doesn’t he,” Rory sighs and Bry is certain he can sense a flicker of magic fluttering through his own feelings again. Raphael always does say that positive feelings are the hardest to keep locked away.

Bry swallows against the flutter in his chest. “So, Finn, how does slow sound to you?”

“Um-” Their voice is just a tad higher, maybe they felt it too. “Slow sounds…good.”

Bry glances at Raphael, who is looking at the both of them with a pretty unreadable expression, Rory still sitting on top of him.

Rory makes a questioning noise that only vaguely resembles Raphael’s name and actually sounds a little bit more like a plea.

Raphael moves his head, looking up at Rory, and with a sudden movement of his hand he invites her in again. Rory moves immediately, leaning over Raph with an elegant curving of her back and bringing her face close enough for a kiss.

Bry can hear their lips meet and their breathing change, but he doesn’t feel a single spark of magic. The gentle noises of affection are having an effect on their own though, and Finn is still pressed against him, lifting their head with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

Rory moans softly until there’s a sudden sound of unrestrained breathing again. Bry’s eyes nearly close when he hears the tell-tale noises of Rory kissing down Raphael’s neck following it.

“You’re gonna have to let go a bit, if they’re gonna enjoy this too,” Rory murmurs in the dusk and Bry  _ wishes _ he could see.

Raphael makes a strained noise that gets rather abruptly cut off. This sounds like a very different kind of kiss. When it ends Bry hears Rory let out a soft whine and he can just see her hide her face against Raphael’s neck. The mattress moves with some rocking weight and suddenly there is that hot, diffuse, feeling of his body reacting to sensations divorced from a clear origin. It almost seems to flicker and he can’t keep his breath from hitching. Well, might as well make it clear that he’s not unhappy about it. He exhales on an appreciative sigh.

There’s a softly moaned answer from Rory, abruptly muffled and soon followed by a new wave of feelings. Bry closes his eyes, mentally following the flow of the feelings. There’s the realness of Finn’s weight against him, the sound of their breath stuttering slightly, just like Raphael’s does, but there’s also the phantom touches to his neck. Calling forth shivers that his body seems to be replicating from memory.

He hears a rustle of fabric, feels the mattress move, and then the soft sound of lips pressed repeatedly to bare skin. Warmth jitters in his midriff, making Bry instinctually pull Finn a little closer. Finn doesn’t make a sound, but he can feel their breath on his neck, slowing down and speeding up by turns.

In the near dark Raphael sucks in his breath, Rory exhales on a note of smug amusement, and Bry feels his legs tense on their own accord.

“ _ Ah _ —” He can’t help the keening that spills from his lips. “Ah, Rory, do that again.”

She does and while this time Raph keeps perfectly quiet, the anticipation for it is already in the air and Bry can feel familiar sensations reaching up his thighs. It’s fantastic, but it’s also bewildering.

“It…” He gasps in a short breath and Rory chuckles, either at him, or Raph, or both. “It’s nearly like you’re touching me,” he muses. “But…not really? More like I’m touching myself?”

He has no desire to do that though, not while these feelings are wrapping around him closer and closer. They feel familiar, but there’s something distinctly not  _ him _ about them. It feels…it feels like being kissed by Raphael and touched by Rory at the same time. Or maybe…maybe not quite… It’s hard to tell what is what with his skin is starting to tingle like this. But Raphael is in all of it. And so is the want for Rory.

Something warm and non-magical ripples through his body and Bry opens his eyes just in time to see Finn hide their face against his shoulder. Even the dim light can’t mask the scarlet blush that has crept all the way down to their shoulder blades, just visible above the hem of their top. Their hair has curled all the way up, moving like the wind is in it, and it’s flickering darker and lighter with every shudder of feelings that Bry feels in his own body. He smiles, exhaling noisily. Yeah, same.

\---

Finn’s head is swimming. They’re sinking, no, floating, anchored only by the warmth of Bry and the softness of the mattress. But Bry is wrong. It’s not at  _ all _ like someone is touching them, Finn can feel that difference clear as day. But it’s… It’s like their body is relaxing and tensing at the same time. Like the feelings that are seeping into them from the outside are pulling on something already inside them.

And it’s Raphael. All of it is Raphael. It’s making their magic go haywire, changing their appearance with what feels like every other breath. They curl instinctually into Bry, their heart skipping beats left and right and their breath fluttering in their chest. Bry is sighing, talking, saying things Finn can’t pay attention to because there’s something hot jittering through their body. Something like the shaking of laughter, except it smoulders. It—

“Finn?”

Finn’s mind jolts in time with their heart. Raphael’s voice is breathy, almost  _ weak _ . He has  _ never _ said their name like that.

There’s a muffled, annoyed noise that must belong to Rory and something changes. The pleasant shuddering stops and they make a noise of disagreement, burying deeper into Bry as if they can get the feeling back that way.

“Don’t worry, Raph,” Bry speaks up, just a little short of breath. “Finn’s good.” A grin slips into his voice. “Please keep going.”

The gleeful noise in response doesn’t belong to Raphael, but Rory, and then, as suddenly as it faded, the swirling feelings swell again. Finn breathes in with a whisper, sinking more heavily into Bry as their limbs seem to grow soft and heavy.

A warm hand strokes down their back and Bry makes a warm, affectionate sound close to their ear. “You’re so quiet Raph worries,” he hums lovingly.

Finn can’t think. The sound of Raphael’s quickened breathing is back in the air and it’s like they can feel the rhythm of his breathing echo in their own chest.

“You’re okay though, right?”

Bry’s voice comes from very far away, but suddenly soft fingers lift up their chin and Finn blinks, meeting Bry’s eyes. His face is rosy with a strange sort of blush and something’s filling his dark eyes that Finn doesn’t think they’ve ever seen before. Bry doesn’t let go of their chin, large, brown eyes fixed on them earnestly, even as his breath hitches when Finn feels something hot and pleasant squeeze around their waist for a second.

“Finn?”

“Y-yes, I’m—” Warmth is trickling down their back and something dizzying is seeping in through their temples. “It’s—” Finn abandons their failed attempt at words in a helpless sound and hides their face against Bry’s shoulder, their fingers curling into the fabric of his pyjamas and their lips pressing instinctually against his skin where his collar has pulled to the side enough to reveal the end of his collarbone.

Bry makes a joyful noise of surprise and Finn tries to answer, muffling the sound against Bry’s skin, but just loud enough. It’s like something has started to gently shake them, in a sweetly disorienting way, and clearly Bry can feel it too, but he still speaks up, his voice also shaking gently:

“Did you hear that, Raph?”

“Yes—” He’s panting.

Finn can hear nails scraping against the fabric of the sheets and they don’t know whose. They kiss Bry again, tumbling further into the feeling of mind-clouding tingling that is pressing into them through their skin.

Again Bry makes a soft sound of agreement and Finn feels his fingers thread into their hair again. Somehow the way his fingers twist into their curls matches the twisting in their middle. Bry’s other arm wraps around their shoulders, as if to keep them close against his chest and Finn is glad of it. It feels like they might slip off. Into the warm dark that’s lapping at the corners of their mind and touching sparks onto their skin.

Somewhere in the dark Raph groans and Finn feels a whine in their own throat, resolutely hiding their face in the crook of Bry’s neck and squeezing their eyes shut. Their hair is coiling wildly around Brys fingers, growing and curling and drawing back again, and Finn can’t stop it.

Bry’s voice comes through the haze in their mind like a song. “Would you like me to do anything?” Finn can feel the affection in his words stick to their skin and they shudder.

“Mm-mn.” They don’t seem to be able to make any other noise.

“Is that a no or an I don't know?” Bry’s fingers are scratching down the back of their neck.

“Mmmff.”

Bry makes a strange sound, almost like laughter. “Just keep stroking your hair then?”

Finn pushes back against the hand in their hair and presses a frantic kiss to Bry’s neck. “Mmhm…”

There’s a low, muffled sound that has to be Rory. Rory is  _ laughing _ and Finn doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that tangle into their ribs because of it.

No matter how tightly they close their eyes they can see colours, like their own illusions putting on a show. Their own breath is pushing against Bry’s as they are pressed chest to chest and Finn holds on to him tighter.

\---

Bry wishes he could kiss Finn. He’s holding them tight in an effort to keep still, instead of following the urge to writhe on his pillow. Raph is doing a remarkable job of keeping quiet, but Bry can hear his breath stuttering as Rory pushes him closer to the edge. He can also hear his nails dig in the mattress whenever Rory holds out on him.

With Finn pressed against him and Raphael’s feelings washing over him with every breath, Bry feels as if the hands Rory must have planted on Raphael’s hips to keep him still are pressed against his own. His legs tense confusion, responding to feelings that aren’t his own and Bry draws his arms a little closer around Finn. Finn, whose breath is warm and shallow against Bry’s neck and who is shaking in his embrace, making soft, bewildered noises that are  _ nearly _ a whine for more.

Something hot twists low in Bry’s stomach and he hears Raphael’s breathing hitch. In his arms, Finn’s fingers dig into his skin. And then, then the feeling almost starts to wane again. Bry’s turns his head on his rumpled pillow, a moan in his chest under the press of Finn’s lips.

“Rory—” Bry can feel his lips are wet by how cold his breath is as the plea escapes his mouth. “ _ Please— _ ”

There’s a wicked, gleeful sort of hum in reply and then the hot feeling twists triumphantly down from his stomach. Wrapping around his thighs, his ankles, his chest. Bry’s breath locks in his lungs for a second while Raph and Finn both let out a startled sort of sound at exactly the same moment.

\---

The sound of all  _ three _ of her most treasured people gasping at her command in perfect, frantic harmony is an absolutely intoxicating soundtrack. Rory can just about manage to stay quiet herself, so as not to miss even one of the frantic noises spilling into the dark. She can’t see a thing, fully hidden under the covers as she is, but she can  _ hear _ .

She can also feel. The hot pulsing of pleasure is good, of course, but it’s not what she’s after. Because behind it, coming in like the entirety of the sea backing up a tidal wave, is the adoration. Rich, deep affection, mixed with a gratitude and a  _ surrender _ to her that has her drunk the moment it hits.

Raphael is still shaking under her touch, barely coming down from the high, and Rory doesn’t let him down easy, using both tongue and fingers to coax every last shudder of pleasure out of him. Raph swears softly and Rory grins, finally raising her head to pull off him.

“Ngh, Rory…” Oh Bry sounds  _ just _ as high as she feels.

Rory grabs in the space between the mattress and the edge of the bed for one of the sigil-embroidered handkerchiefs Bry is in the habit of hiding there. Raph hisses at the touch of magic to his skin as Rory cleans him up and she throws off the covers to grin at him.

“You should let me have my way more often…”

Raphael gives her a heavy-lidded glare, still breathing quickly and Rory lets out a groan of pleasure at the rush of sated, angry affection clawing at her back.

She looks smugly to the side, to see exactly what effect she has had on Bry and Finn, and looks straight into Bry’s lust-flooded eyes.

\---

Raphael lets his head roll to the side, his mind swimming and all his nerves still singing Rory’s praises.  _ Fuck _ —

It’s a full second before his eyes manage to focus on what he’s looking at, but when they do, his brain stutters. The pleasure still clinging to him twists itself up in surprise and his breath falters for a moment as he looks at Finn, lying in Bry’s arms.

Bry has his eyes fixed on Rory, wet lips parted in a soundless request, but Finn is still tucked against his chest. Vibrant pinks, reds, and purples ripple through their hair, visible even in the dusk. Their skin almost seems to glow.

Even if he had wanted to hold back the pang of endeared want reaching out for Finn he couldn’t have. Raphael barely feels Rory’s weight lift from over him, but he does see Finn pick up their head, their eyes blinking open to look at him.

One-way empath or not, their smile reaches all the way into his chest. Their face is lit up with a dazed, dreamlike brightness. They look every bit as ecstatic as he feels.

Finn sits up, and as soon as they do Bry is up as well, dragging Rory onto her back and shutting her mouth with his own before she can do more than let out a smug laugh.

“Scuse me,” Finn mutters and they clamber over the tangle of legs, moving towards Raphael as if they’re following the feeling of him more than any of their other senses.

He doesn’t even realise he’s reaching out for them until they’re already in his arms. The sigh that escapes him as they settle on top of him is completely involuntary.

Their eyes meet his for just a moment before they lay down completely, their irises shining a deep violet in the dark. “You…” They trail off before they’ve hardly begun and let out a weak, adoring noise instead, burying their face in his neck.

Raphael hums a wordless answer, nothing but a purr deep in his chest, and holds them. They’re so warm. Even with his eyes half-closed he can see the colours shimmer in their hair. His body is devoid of any tension as he lies there, breathing quietly, with Finn draped over him. They’re completely enveloped by his magic and nuzzling against his neck as if they can bury into it deeper still.

There really was no need for apprehension. Finn acts as if they have never known discomfort in their life, let alone during anything that just happened. They’re so wonderfully soft on top of him that he doesn’t stop to think about the fact that he’s never been as exposed as he is now with them pressed against him. It doesn’t matter right now.

All the want and need in his being is slowly fading into nothing but satisfaction and pure affection.

\---

Raph radiates bliss. Thick and soft and all-pervasive. Finn clings to him, not in a fear of him pulling away, but simply to feel as much of him as they possibly can. They feel perfect. And  _ he _ is perfect.

Beside them, Rory is trying to get the upper hand on Bry, probably with the intent of getting his shirt off. The bed creaks and Finn feels the mattress give way a little under one of their legs as Bry and Rory’s weight dents it. Finn turns their head just enough to peek at them with one eye.

“Go attack each other on the other side of the bed,” they mumble. “We’re not moving.”

There is a grunt of disagreement as Bry sits up, pinning the much taller Rory underneath his full weight, and he looks at Finn with an apologetic blush on his already flushed face. “Sorry,” he pants. “I’m just—” He makes a yearning sound and squeaks slightly as Rory grabs him by his hips.

Finn hums in agreement and presses even closer against Raphael. They can feel his skin against theirs. It’s like there’s barely any barrier between them at all. The whole of his drowsy mingle of glorious feelings is flowing directly into their own.

“Wait,” Bry gasps, breaking out of a newly begun kiss. Much to the displeasure of Rory, judging from her weak noise of protest.

Finn meets his eyes again.

“You felt all that, but you don’t want more?” There’s no judgement in them, only honest curiosity.

Underneath them Rory makes an exasperated sound. “Can the psycho-occult research wait? Come here.” It’s somewhere between an order and a plea.

Finn fights the heaviness of their lashes. They’re so warm. Raphael’s warmth and the heat of their blushing. They want too, just like Bry. They just want… “Mm, 's different,” they mutter, enjoying the feeling of how their own voice vibrates through Raphael’s chest.

“How?” Bry asks, tipping his head to the side, he’s moving on top of Rory, making her suck in her breath, but he’s still looking at them.

Talking really is far too much effort. Finn’s eyes nearly close and they let out a drunken sigh. “Don’t know. Just  _ is _ .”

“Yes, but—”

“Bry for the love of  _ fuck _ .”

Finn blinks their eyes awake again just in time to see Rory roughly drag Bry into another kiss.

Raph makes a vague noise, fond and amused, and Finn feels his arms wrap tighter around them to support them as he rolls onto his side. Finn lets out a content hum, happy to stay tucked against his chest as he rearranges them on the bed, probably to give the other two some semblance of privacy. Raphael’s lips press a soft kiss into their hair and they nearly lose themself in the silent rush of his love. He loves them so unblemishedly...

“Ro-Rory—” Bry is nearly failing to speak through the keening sounds escaping his throat. “…we should go…downstairs, let the others sleep—”

Finn honestly doesn’t care at this point, but they’re too comfortable to speak up. Lying like this they can’t see what’s going on anyway, and all they hear is the sounds of Rory and Bry being happy after all. They don’t intend to sleep either, they intend to stay in this drowsy, affection-filled daze, wrapped up in Raphael’s arms and feelings  _ forever _ .

Apparently Rory disagreed with Bry’s suggestion, because instead of an answer from her lips, the response is a series of choked back moans from Bry.

“ _ Rory _ ,” he whines.

Her halfway growled reply is undistinguishable, especially since Finn can hear a single low note of laughter from Raphael that somehow shakes their entire being with amusement.

“Or—” Bry pants in reply. “—we could use the table-”

There is a single heartbeat of silence before Bry squawks in surprise, followed by a flutter of movement as Finn hears the distinctive sound of a duvet being dragged off the bed and two pairs of bare feet hitting the floor.

“Have fun,” they yawn, making Raphael laugh again.

He holds them closer and they sigh, nuzzling against the hollow of his throat. Love. Love. Love.

They make a deep, warm, wordless noise.

He replies with another kiss to the top of their head.

\---

Raphael doesn’t pull his magic back in. He always does, but not this time. Finn’s colours are no longer quite as bright, but he can just see the shine of purple through the shadow of his lashes when he looks down at them. They’re not asleep, their fingers are still tracing patterns on his skin, but they’re not fully awake either. Neither is he, probably. The occasional frantic, joyfully involuntary noises from downstairs barely reach him, but when they do they make him smile. He has  _ never _ felt like this. There have been pieces of this feeling distributed throughout his life, considerably more of them ever since the four of them managed to find a balance between them, but it has never been as complete a feeling as this.

“D’you think they’ll come back?” Finn mutters, their voice heavy with sated affection. “To sleep here?”

“Mm,” he hums, reaching up to stroke their hair. “Rory refuses to sleep on couches.”

“They better come back,” Finn decides, and after a moment of drowsy thoughtfulness they add: “But quietly.”

Raphael smiles, unchecked and unseen. He tangles his fingers further into their purple curls, sending all his unadulterated feelings into the world without even a single care of betraying himself.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, that probably means this kind of writing is still interesting for others without a full story around it! If that's the case, it'd be brilliant of you to leave a kudo's or a comment so I know this stuff is worth writing for others as well as myself <3


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